


Moonlit Stitches

by MadameFluffnStuff



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra, Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Aang is a ~little shit~, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Cuddles, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Family Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, KATAANG DANCES, Kataang - Freeform, Kataang dances because I will not rest until these dorks are happy, Kisses, M/M, Romantic Fluff, Soulmates, alpha!Sokka, alpha!aang, alpha!toph, beta!katara, but its background for now and will be there later if i make this a series, diabetes--diabetes everywhere, i was informed that those need to be tagged, littleshit!Aang, omega!Zuko, sweeties gonna sweet, sweeties who sass together last together, verrry soft a/b/o because I will take any and every excuse for more cuddles and hugs and kisses, zukka - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-07 07:07:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26469187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadameFluffnStuff/pseuds/MadameFluffnStuff
Summary: Katara buried her face in his robes like she was trying to sink into the bright colors. She took in his scent, breathing it in deeply and slowly like it was a strong drink. It poured warmth into her belly that pooled for a long moment and then spilled over like water from an upturned leaf. The content turning her mind to fuzz escaped her in a long, rolling purr. She didn’t have an airbender’s lungs or Aang’s heritage, so the sound was drowned beneath his own. He clung to it, nevertheless, and the world got a bit brighter from the force of his smile.She loved these small moments with him. They weretheirmoments, just her and her Bond—her best friend, her soulmate, and the man she loved.aka A wholesome Soulmate/kinda-abo Kataang & Gaang fic because dammit the sweeties need more sweetness and I will not rest until they get it.
Relationships: Aang & Katara (Avatar), Aang & The Gaang (Avatar), Aang/Katara (Avatar), Katara & The Gaang (Avatar), Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 124





	Moonlit Stitches

**Author's Note:**

> If you thought I was joking about writing those soulmate very-soft-a/b/o-because-I-want-excuses-for-purrs-and-cuddles ficlets, then you are sorely mistaken because I subsist solely on cuddles, kisses, and hugs in this fandom.
> 
> Alpha!Aang & Beta!Katara because I twist the a/b/o canon to make it fluffier and because I can. 
> 
> For the abo part of this SoulmateAU, ruts/heats are emotional vulnerability instead of sexual. Basically their soul is exposed.   
> So lots.   
> And lots.   
> Of ~fluff~

Katara cradled her tea on the railing. The moon was full. It warmed her like the hug of an old friend, and strength simmered under her skin and into the tips of her fingers.

She didn’t hear his approach, but a sixth sense had her look up to see her wayward Bond shuffling towards her. He moved like his legs were filled with lead, and his eyes drooped; but the grace that bellied his walk, liquid and flowing like the slow roll of a cat’s shoulders, clung to even the slide of his steps over the grass. 

“Hey, there, handsome.” Katara greeted him with a kiss on his cheek. The happy curl of his smile grew wider under her kiss, and his laugh rippled with tiny giggles. 

“G’evenin’, gorgeous.” 

“How are you feeling? You look exhausted.”

“‘M tired.” Aang’s voice was scratchy. He leaned like he was going to fall, but he ‘caught’ himself by pressing his brow to hers and looking at her through droopy eyes. Gentle grey pools were  _ far _ too dilated, and they welcomed her to drown in them if she would bless him with the honor.

“You poor, poor thing.” Katara gave his cheek another sympathy kiss. He smiled big and stupidly, and she kissed him again for a second longer just to see it get bigger. “You ready for bed, then? I’m not going to have to carry you, am I?”

“Not yet. Stay with me for a bit?”

“Of course.”

Aang walked behind her in the light, spinning way of the airbenders, and Katara nearly ate the ground as her Bond’s entire weight  _ plopped _ onto her shoulders and back. His chin found its home on top of her head. The air grew thick with his smug, happy grin. He was quite pleased with himself and his new spot, and his arms slid over her shoulders to dangle on her torso. 

“ _ Spirits _ , you’re heavy.” 

“ _ Hmm... _ ” Aang hummed a throaty purr. He hugged her waist in a gentle but needy grip that gave her no illusion of how much he was  _ not _ moving anytime soon. 

Katara put her tea down. “You feel better now that you got all of that craziness out of your system?” 

“Yeah. A bit.” Aang’s voice rasped against her ear. Katara kissed his cheek  _ again _ , and she tasted his smile as he chuckled. “Okay,  _ now _ I feel better.” 

Katara placed her hands on his. Her muscles all suddenly grew tired. She was as malleable as wet river clay in Aang’s hands when he pulled her into the protective cage of his arms. 

Her Bond buried his face in her neck and hair and just  _ breathed _ . His chest rose and fell against her back in pants greedy for air. They fell in line with hers like sand smoothed flat by licks of the tide; it wasn’t long before they were tamed into the deep, powerful inhales she had come to expect from the airbender.

Katara stroked the length of his tattoos. In this light, they stood out like webs of lightning against a pitch-black sky. His chi running beneath the blue ink was white-hot and buzzing like the medals of his mastery really were charged with electricity, but, as they stood there, the glare of his energy drained away. It was like she was his lightning rod redirecting his overstimulated senses to bring him back to a place of peace and calm.

Katara didn’t know how long they stood there, but she was happy to stay until one of them collapsed. It was the first time in days that they had this kind of peace. Aang deserved it. He needed it, especially after all of the night’s excitement. He hung over her happily and heavily like a towel soaked with giggles—like he was drunk on the laughs they all had shared.

His guard was completely down. He relaxed like her company was the safest place in the world.

Katara fought off a concerned scowl. It wasn’t really until then that she realized just how much Aang was relying on her in this fragile stage of his life. Their family was together tonight and two more days, yes, but they had to leave. Luckily, the world was at peace, so Aang could have them for at least this time. 

But he would need  _ her _ for the coming weeks. She was his Bond. And he was an airbender with no people to call his own.

She needed to be a whole  _ temple _ for him. 

Aang dragged his head up until it rested on hers again. He tugged her snug against his front like he was trying to mold himself into armor around her. He fidgeted. Katara smiled. She sensed her Bond’s need for affection like she would sense her own need for food or water, and she felt his silent request for  _ her _ when he squeezed her waist, the gentle touch a silent ‘please?’ that compelled her just as strongly as his wounded-pigmypuma eyes would. 

She leaned into him. She accepted him.  _ Immediately _ , his purr crescendoed into a rolling roar. He shuffled his feet and smiled so big that Katara could swear the night got brighter. His rolling purr bloomed and then stilled, melting into her just like he did, reminding her of a mighty glacier crumbling and succumbing to the ocean. 

Then he swayed them gently like he was smiling with his whole body.

And Katara felt like her heart would spill over. 

In that moment, in his arms, surrounded by his scent and his warmth and his touch, she felt a sense of peace that she had never experienced. And the peace Aang brought her felt like it was the only absolute that would ever exist in the world. 

She turned in his arms and cuddled into his chest. Her hands lightly clung to his robes. 

She molded into him like it was the most natural thing in the world. 

He kissed her hair and placed his face by her temple, and he rubbed up and down her back as she settled. Strong arms wound tighter around her waist. 

Silence filled the night air with a warm hum, and sleep teased the drunken-happy haze of Katara’s mind. She nearly caved-in to the warmth of her Bond and the soft  _ pit-pat _ thrumming from his chest. Aang rubbed his cheek into her hair, and he created a lullaby with his purr that rose and fell like the words to a song he didn’t know.

And then their lips met, and just like warm air meeting cold wind, they began to dance. 

It started soft, but they never ended that way. The chaste kiss she gave him was the beat of a butterfly’s wings, and he was more than happy to foster the small gust into a hurricane. 

Aang drew out their kisses like he was drawing out a moment to make it last forever. Like he was laying a brand so that whenever she felt happy, she would think of him and these moments they shared. It was like he was bending—reading her pleasure and being its humble guide to something greater. 

But, right now, Aang was vulnerable. Completely and utterly exposed and raw. His every defense was peeled back, and Katara, not for the first time, was filled with something like pride that her Bond trusted her so. Every touch was like she was sinking into him, sometimes. She felt it now as he shivered and tensed from head to toe before relaxing again. 

She made him weak. 

It almost scared her. 

She could destroy him.

Aang separated them once he remembered that Katara needed to breathe, but he didn’t move away. She kissed him chastely like an invitation to continue. He smiled against her lips.

“I love you,” she said.

He laughed warmly, and Katara felt it from where they were pressed together, chest to chest. Aang smiled just as large as when she said it to him the very first time, and he purred his joy just as loudly. It was like her Bond  _ still _ couldn’t believe that she was his. But she would spend the rest of their lives happily reminding him. She kissed his smile and the corners of his mouth.

“I love you, too,” he said, though the look in his eyes and his sudden intake of breath and the way he held her just a  _ bit _ closer said more about how much he loved her than words ever could. 

When he kissed her again, she tasted sunshine and silly smiles. She tasted the nights he took her to secret spots only he knew. She tasted sweet words and gentle laughter. And when he smiled and invited her deeper into the ocean they were creating for themselves, she gladly took his hand and let him guide her through the shallows, shivering when it felt like he had brought her so deep that she no longer felt the world beneath her feet, and losing her breath as he pulled her  _ deeper _ . She swam after and then ahead of him, and they raced ahead of each other, guiding each other until everything faded away and all they knew was the feeling of one another.

He shivered and held her just a bit tighter, and Katara remembered  _ again _ how vulnerable he was. How his rut peeled away every wall and barrier that eighteen years of life had molded into him, leaving him sensitive and raw like an open wound or exposed nerve. She had learned early on in his coming-of-age to start their touches gently like easing into cool water—like there was a thin skin of frost that first needed to be melted before she got to him. The deepest parts of himself were exposed in their entirety—his desires and his needs and his wants and his dislikes. That’s why three of the nations kept coming-of-age’s so private. And that’s exactly what his didn’t.

In that moment, he could tell no lie or fake any affection, and in that moment, he kissed her deeper and held her like she was the only thing that would ever matter. 

It almost scared her how much he loved her. 

He would battle a god if she asked him to. 

Katara curled her hands into his robes and ran her fingers over the thick weave. The material was gentle and delicate as it slid under the pads of her fingers like its texture was a taste all of its own. It was thin but densely woven, and its many stitches made it welcoming to the touch. It was beautiful and vibrant from a distance, and it was reliable and sturdy even after years of abuse. 

From a distance, it looked untouched, but Katara felt around the dozens of bulging scars in the fabric. She had stitched up every one, and as she tilted her head, inviting him deeper, one of her hands sought out the patchwork of scars on his exposed torso up towards his shoulder. She had stitched up those, too. They were nearly invisible except for the welting bumps that they made under her fingers. They were proof of a thousand near-misses, flirts with what she didn’t like to think about. She had already seen it before. They broke and built him like wooden beams snapped and replaced by steel, like a broken bone fusing thicker than before. 

One of his hands slid up her back and down the length of her arm, pulling her hand away from the evidence of bad memories. He kissed each of her knuckles while his other arm shifted around her waist.

And then he held their hands out like they were dancing. 

Katara smiled. Aang didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. His eyes spoke so much for him that he could live mute and never need to write his thoughts, but his smile was a wonder of nature, like sunshine curled across his face, and his laugh was a gift that he wanted to share with the world. 

All the Spirits and the Ancients themselves could not keep her from the soul who would ever damage his smile. 

Aang often got lost in his need to make her his in his coming-of-age, but Katara quickly learned that sex was the  _ last _ thing that concerned. He wanted to kiss her and touch her. He wanted to make her smile at silly jokes and laugh at his antics. He wanted to  _ need _ her—to train himself to make her his focus. Two people only ever belonged to one another if they did. It was never a matter of leaving a mark on the other person. It was him putting  _ her _ mark on  _ himself _ , him pulling her closer so that she might fill the void he wanted so desperately to fill with her. 

He wanted to chase her, not to catch her but to give her reason to want to run with him.

And as he swayed her softly, she leaned into his lead until they were two pendulums dancing in the moonlight.

Katara blushed, not embarrassed but happy, content. Aang wanted her in every way there was to want a person. Everything she’d never done, she wanted to do with him. She loved him—she loved him more than he could ever know. He was her best friend, her shoulder to cry on, her rock to stand on, and her safety net to fall into. In his arms was the safest place in the world. 

She could smell it now, what Zuko was talking about before. Aang  _ had _ imprinted on her. It was ever so faint, the slightest mix of her scent in his like a current underneath still water. Their spirits were already flirting with each other, and by the end of his rut, Aang would braid them together. 

When they were younger, they had planned on bonding during her heat after he came-of-age, but then she was declared a beta, not an omega. 

Katara tried not to linger on that thought. It still bothered her, if only a bit. Aang said she was enough for him, but she wanted to be  _ more _ than enough for him. He deserved so much more than her. 

He had lost so much. He tried to hide how it hurt him, and he either forgot that she could always tell when he hid it or he tried not to believe it. She felt herself filling in more than one hole in his heart, and she would gladly be everything he needed, anything he needed, and she would stitch that up, too. 

Katara buried her face in his robes like she was trying to sink into the bright colors. She took in his scent, breathing it in deeply and slowly like it was a strong drink. It poured warmth into her belly that pooled for a long moment and then spilled over like water from an upturned leaf. The content turning her mind to fuzz escaped her in a long, rolling purr. She didn’t have an airbender’s lungs or Aang’s heritage, so the sound was drowned beneath his own. He clung to it, nevertheless, and the world got a bit brighter from the force of his smile. She was the sheets of rain beneath his thunder. 

She loved these small moments with him. They were  _ their _ moments, just her and her Bond—her best friend, her soulmate, and the man she loved. 

Aang’s purr dimmed to a comforting trill. His voice was soft like the gust petting the courtyard grasses, and it brushed against her ear just as gently. “I would ask you if I could have this dance, but it would seem that I already have it. And I don’t intend on giving it back.”

Katara's shoulders shook in a small laugh. “What dance? There’s no music.” 

“I could always serenade you.” 

“Please don’t.”

Aang cleared his throat. “ _ *ahem* _ Two lovers, forbidden from one another~” 

“Oh Spirits, please stop...” 

Aang, in fact, could not be stopped. 

Katara laughed and mirrored his smile as he swung her around. It was exaggerated and ridiculous, just like him, but it was bellied by a tender care that made her feel like she was flying whenever she stepped off the ground.

“ _ Aaang _ …” Katara groaned but laughed regardless, and the sound compelled him to keep going. “You’re ridiculous, you dork.”

“A war divides their people~” 

She kissed him again. He  _ gladly _ accepted her bribe and slowed them to a stop. 

Aang held her close and touched his brow to hers, and Katara looked at every detail of her Bond’s face just because she could. 

She mapped out the thin line of freckles that sat across the bridge of his nose and faded into his cheeks. The ghostly pale spots made it look like he was blushing flakes of snow. They were virtually invisible if she wasn’t this close and looking for them. They were her small treasure, and she mapped with her eyes the dozens of constellations of her own making that were hidden there.

She felt at ease when she fell into his eyes. They brought her a calm and reassurance that she couldn’t describe. His eyes were like the grey valleys that painted the moon, and they made her feel just as powerful as it did when it was full.

He stared back in that lopsided way of his that made her stomach feel light.

“What’s that look for?”

“What look?”

“You’re staring, you dork.”

“I’m not staring. I’m admiring. Big difference.” Aang smiled. “You’re beautiful, Katara.” He kissed her cheeks and between her eyes. “So beautiful.” He ran his hand up her back, his fingers a feather-light touch that made her shiver. “So beautiful.”

“You just said that.”

“Wanna watch me say it again?”

“I would say ‘please stop before it becomes a nervous tick’, but when have you ever listened to reason?”

“Reason is boring. You’re beautiful, and I’ll keep saying that you’re beautiful because you’re the most breathtaking woman in the world.” 

“You’re just saying that because I’m your Bond.” 

Aang gasped like Katara just insulted his ancestors. “I am  _ not _ . It’s written into the weave of the universe that the sky is blue, that the sun rises in the east, and that Katara of the Southern Water Tribe is the most  _ kind _ most  _ gorgeous _ most  _ wonderful _ most  _ loyal _ most  _ amazing _ woman to have  _ ever _ walked the four nations.” He twirled her around and spoke with the uttermost conviction. “The universe and I are really good friends, so I should know.”

“You speak often with the universe?”

“We’re cosmic-energy penpals.”

“So if I truly am as great as you say, then what does that make  _ you _ , Mister Avatar?”

“The luckiest man in the world, of course! Because you are my Bond, and you accepted me—for whatever reason I will  _ never _ figure out—, and you tolerate me enough to bestow upon me the absolute pleasure and  _ highest _ honor of being the  _ only _ person in the entire world who can do  _ this _ ...” 

Aang spun her into a dip that nearly held her parallel to the ground, and he kissed her like they wouldn’t see the morning. Katara yelped and grabbed his neck, startled, but she laughed along with him and entertained his fervent affections.

And then, from the not-so-distant distance, came three voices.

“Oogies! Major oogies, guys!” 

“Just fuck already!” 

“That’s my baby sister, you  _ heathen _ !” 

“No voyeurism in my palace’s courtyard, please.”

“Yeah, Twinkletoes, think of the children.”

The turtleducks quacked like they had been summoned.

Katara rolled her eyes,  _ very _ annoyed, and pulled Aang into another kiss that left their audience chanting  _ oogies _ like prayer mantras.

**Author's Note:**

> ThInK oF tHe ChIlDrEn, KaTaRa  
> Sweeties will sweet whenever and wherever they damn well please  
> (part 1/?)
> 
> (Hope you enjoyed!:D)


End file.
